Wolf Tower Twisted
by Adilic
Summary: Uh, yeah, I had to take it down to fix some stuff, and now it's back. Read it. I dare you.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Wolf Tower Twisted

Rating: T

Pairings: All cannon

Warnings: None, except I'm a lousy updated. ::punted through a wondow::

Description: Claidi turns back the night that she and Nemian escape the house, and never meets Argul or destroys the Law of the Wolf Tower. Or at least not yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own Claidi. I do not own Nemian, Argul, Ven'n or any of the other guys she's sleeping with. Although I wish. Maybe she'll share if I ask nicley...

Dedicated to Sedge, because by default all of my stories are for her. And Jesus, of course.

In need of a beta, so email me if you're interested.

* * *

We've been here for two months, Nemian and I. That night, the night everything changed…we turned back. I'm sure you have almost no idea what I'm talking about, so I'll write it all down here, like I did for that short period of time before Nemian came.

That night, what they now call "Lion's Night" or sometimes, "Claidi's Night", I helped Nemian escape the cage in the garden, and we got outside the walls when he fell asleep. Well, of course your know this, it was the last thing I wrote to you. But, the next morning, I smelled smoke. Lots of it coming from the house.

And I know it was a stupid thing to do at the time, and Nemian yelled at me for it later, but I thought of Pattoo, and Daisy, and Dengwi, and Groother, and all of my other friends at the house, and I thought, _"No, they can't be hurting them because of me." _By them of course, I meant the royalty. Or what was the royalty.

It took me about three hours to run back through those tunnels under the ground, with Nemian chasing after me the entire way. Never let it be said I have no endurance.

When we got back to the house, there was noise, a lot of noise, and even though it was only two months ago, much of my memory of that time was a blur. But, in the hallways, I heard people, slaves, and maid-slaves shouting and whispering the same thing.

Revolution.

Nemian and I had sparked this, I later learned. The Lady Jizania had set it up so the maid-slaves of Lady Jade Leaf had the means to overthrow the royalty. Torches and bonfires were lit (the cause of all the smoke) and all 94 lords and ladies were ushered out of their beds into the great debate hall.

"We demand justice from what you have taken!" cried Dengwi (!) from the spot in the hall that the Old Men and Old Ladies usually sat. She appeared to be in the middle of a speech. "We demand justice for our freedom, our pride and dignity, for the disregard you have shown for our lives! And what we demand we shall take!" she shouted. I had by then lost Nemian in the crowds of people.

A roar came from the assembled servants. They demanded blood.

I think that Dengwi sensed this, so she said next, "But we will not take the road you have. We will demand your lives," there was a quick intake of breath from everyone, royalty and servant (I think a few of the more delicate ladies fainted) "but we will not take them. You are all henceforth stripped of your titles. You may either stay here, and become equal with the working men and women of this House, or you will be," here, she paused, "exiled to the waste!" More gasps and faints from those in the hall.

Then, a cheer rang out from the crowd of servants. I smiled. We deserved this. I cheered too. I danced. I sang a song that I had heard the slaves sing. I hugged the woman standing next to me that I had never met, and I'll admit that I cried a little.

Because I was free.

The rest of the day was mainly spent figuring out who of the royalty would stay, and who would leave. Jade Leaf was rejected by her mother, and Jizania decided to take her on as a personal servant. I felt a twang of pity for her, but then dismissed it. She deserved everything life dealt her.

I became lost in the crowds and chaos. The House is big; there are at least 4,000 people here, more if you count all the slave-farmers in the outer garden. So it was a few hours until anyone I knew recognized me.

"Claidi!" yelled Groother from a few yards away. I waved enthusiastically. "What are you doing here?" he shouted over the din. "We were all told you left with Nemian, the golden prince!"

"We saw smoke and came—" Someone jostling me cut me short. I would've fallen but by then Groother had managed to make his was over to me and caught my arm. "Thanks."

"No, Claidi. Thanks to you. Dengwi lead this, but you sparked it. You'll be a hero," he said in all sincerity. I was floored.

"Me?" I squeaked. Until this point, I had been running on the thrill of freedom. The adrenaline. I didn't think of what part I had had in this revolution.

"Dengwi will probably want to see you." He started to tug me through the crowd. I had to hold tightly on to his hand for fear of being separated.

"How do you propose we find her?" I had to raise my voice to be heard.

He led me into a quiet side-hall where we could talk. "She's probably still in the debating hall. I heard that she's sort of set up a temporary residence there."

"Groother," I asked slowly, "is Dengwi to be the new princess here?"

He looked at me. "I think it's too soon to know that. Come on, let's go find her." We continued on our way.

When we entered the debating hall, a loud cry came from the other end.

"No," sobbed a former lady who was kneeling before a figure on a wooden chair, "you can't! This is my life. It's all I know! Don't take me away!" she shrieked.

"You are given the option to stay here," said a regal-looking Dengwi very calmly. I then noticed that the Lady Jizania-or is it just Jizania now?-was sitting next to her on Dengwi's left side and had the same look a kitchen cat had on it's face after it caught and ate a particularly annoying mouse.

"Oh be silent, Ralia," snapped Jizania. "Why can't you be as cooperative as Iris, hm?"

"Tower trash," spat Ralia, who then turned and started to run from the hall. "I'm leaving to the waste, Jizania, and don't think the other houses won't hear of this!" She slammed the heavy wooden door behind her with a thud.

I had a thought. Other houses? Well, I suppose it makes sense. If there are other people and even cities in the waste, there stands to reason that there should be other houses.

"Claidi!" It was Nemian. And, much to my delight, he sounded very pleased to see me. Pleased and relieved.

Dengwi's eyes shot up. She grinned. "We wondered when you would be joining us." We were now the only people in the room. Groother had, for some odd reason, left.

"Where are Daisy and Pattoo? What started this? Jizania, what are the Towers?"

"You have so many questions," said Jizania in a lazy languid manner. "You friends are fine, probably running around somewhere celebrating. As to this revolution…. I grew weary of the way things were. And I needed to be able to be sure that no one would follow you two on your way to Nemian's city." She flicked her gaze over to him. "The Towers are merely a group of people. That is all."

Nemian coughed. We all looked at him. "Madame…," he began.

"No, no, just Jizania," she insisted.

He paused. "Very well then. Jizania. May I request a mode of transportation back to my city, so that Claidi and I may reach there sooner?"

"I'll contact Ironel and request a balloon for you, how's that, Prince?" she asked airily.

"We would be most pleased," he said.

"Wait," everyone looked at me, " 'we'? Both of us are still going? But, why do I have to go?"

There was a silence.

Then Nemian said, "But you don't want to go with me? Darling Claidi, I am crushed."

"Well," I flushed, "I mean, I think there's a lot to be done here…," I trailed off lamely.

"Claidi, I can handle it," said Dengwi softly. "You go ahead with Nemian."

"Yes, they may even need you in his City," Jizania put in slyly. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw Nemian glare at her.

He quickly recomposed himself. "It's settled then. Claidi's coming with me."

"I suppose so," I said quietly.

Dengwi suddenly jumped up. "Let's go find Daisy and Pattoo, Claidi." We quickly exited to room together.

Things had calmed down a bit, but not much. There were fewer people around, but everyone stopped to shake Dengwi's hand or give me a hug or something along the lines of that.

We found Daisy and Pattoo in my old room, sitting on my old cot crying together. They looked up when we entered the room. There was a silence, and then I started crying, and I heard Dengwi sniffle, and we all hugged.

"We're free," whispered Pattoo.

"I've never been so happy," sobbed Daisy.

And neither had I.

* * *

The next week, a balloon showed up for Nemian and I. There was a man piloting it (a ballooner, maybe? No, that's not right.), and two guards in it too. Thankfully we weren't shot out of the sky.

The journey took longer than I expected. A month. Nemian was distant the entire cramped time, and he barely spoke to me. I was so lonely I almost couldn't stand it. But the two men, their names were Daskk and Nivlow, were kind to me, and we would stay up late at night, and they would tell me stories about their god Anansi.

(Gods are funny things, aren't they? If you know Gods, I mean. There were no Gods at the House, needless to say.)

The City is completely and absolutely dismal. But maybe it's just the betrayal that made it worse.

For you see, Nemian is married.

We reached the City, and were led through twisting hallways (still in our traveling clothes, might I add) to a large room. I was rather lost, but Nemian seemed to know where we were going.

There were two women in the room. One was old, possibly older than Jizania, and sat on a golden throne. Nemian knelt before her and kissed a gnarled had.

"Grandmother," he said regally and softly. Then the other woman, young pretty and shy, made a noise that attracted his attention. Nemian let out a noise like a wounded animal and threw the woman (a girl really) into his arms. They kissed.

"Moon Silk," he whispered, while all the while the other woman (his grandmother, I suppose) stood by watching, me in horror, and her with mild fascination.

"Are you quite done?" she asked. "You haven't even introduced Claidissa" I almost forgot about my new name "to your wife."

Shock. "Wife?" I asked shakily. What have I done?

"Yes. I had to leave her, but now I am back."

"And you haven't introduced Claidissa to me," his grandmother said dangerously.

"Claidi," Nemian straightened, "this is my grandmother, Ironel. She will be you mentor."

I just stared blankly.

"All will be explained, Claidissa. Now, let's have you shown to your rooms," cackled the old woman.

And it was.

I'm here to be their new Law Maker, their Wolf's Paw. Nemian is from the Wolf Tower, a huge tower with a hulking wolf on top. Their law is positively vile.

They (or more precisely, Ironel, the old Wolf's Paw) rolled dice that chose numbers in a large book. The numbers chose a law or more like a punishment to be dished out to a civilian or noble of the city. Everyone here lives in fear of the things they may be made to do.

A princess was forced to give up her noble life and become a slave in a distant city. A man has to swim forever more in the cold gray river in this cold gray city and only stop for short rests. Another man was ordered to be a hermit and sell all his things to go live in a shack.

Nemian was forced to marry Moon Silk and then go find me.

I have to get out of here before I have to take over the law. I've packed a bag. I drugged the guards like I did on the night of the revolution, and I swapped the horrid armored beetle-clothing of the city for traveling clothes.

I wrote all this down, in case I die and no one knows my story.

There's a trader leaving tonight in ten minutes down by the gates who will take me to a city north of here. It's a safe city, he says, and no one will be able to harm me there.

I feel bad, leaving the people here to live in fear, but what can I do? Maybe they'll have a revolution themselves. There's a twinge in my belly. I think it's guilt.

But now I have to concentrate on what tomorrow brings.

* * *

Oh, yes, now wasn't that sensatonal? I don't expect you to review, and I'm going to save us both our dignity by not begging for bones. :smileemote:


	2. Chapter 2

Yeah, so on to chapter two.

Enjoy, my pretties.

* * *

I couldn't do it. Leave, I mean. And not because they stopped me. I stopped myself, my guilt and conscience forming an invisible wall of glass, a steady force holding me back. You must think that I'm daft, giving up my freedom that I had so cleverly tried to give myself.

Ahead of myself.

Ironel threw the dice, and acted as the godly Wolf's Paw once again, as she always does. And what she did was just so truly appaling, that I couldn't even….words escape me at that woman's horrifying imagination.

Two women recently gave birth, a day apart, two little baby boys. They were adorable. I know, because they were brought before me a few hours ago, as tradition in the City, to be viewed by the Wolf's Paw (and me as well, as Wolf's Paw-to-be) as if they were flowers, or a little trinket proudly made by a child.

It was in a different room than the one that Ironel usually has her audiences in, which is this huge gold and green lacquered monstrosity that she presides in like a malicious hawk, and I hate her. For what she did in this different room, a pale pink and orange and gold (there's always gold here, in this City of nobles. I've even spotted a few favored slaves sporting cravats or scarves embroidered with gold thread, and a few with one small gold circlet looped through their ears. At the House, anyone less than a head-servant or steward had nothing nice at all, and the few pretty things we could steal we did. I remember so many beatings over trinkets like ink-pens, glassy, glittery beads, and even shiny decorative paper that the lords and ladies used to fold into shapes of things, like cranes, and boxes, and even once a pianoforte).

She leered at the women. I think that it's her favorite of all her looks because it intensifies the fact that she looks like a sly crocodile (I've seen pictures of them in books from her extensive purple and gold library). She sat in her raised throne, one elbow propped on the arm, and her face in that hand. She looked at the women holding their babies. One was afraid; she was young and had dark hair. It was her first child, and she wasn't any older than me, I could tell. I believe that she was also a maid-servant in the tower, I had the inkling that I had seen her perhaps clutching laundry or groceries she was delivering to a belly swollen with the boy she now carried.

The other mother was a Lady. She did not stand alone like the maid, she had her own attendees flitting about her person, and occasionally she would hand her baby to one of her slaves. She was older, possibly mid-thirties, and had a look about her that she had done this before.

"Lady Hopir," drawled Ironel. I sat on a pink-y cushion on the steps of the pedestal that her throne dominated. Another slave, I never learned his name, stood by me at attention, holding a tray of refreshments for me, cakes with frosting dyed to match the room (nobles really do love to coordinate, don't they?) and a golden-yellow wine. I didn't touch anything I was offered.

"Ironel," she spoke softly, and calmly and smoothly, like butter, lowered herself into a curtsey. Ironel smirked, then turned to the cowering girl.

Sugary sweet, "What's your name dear?" There was a look of eager anticipation on the old bat's face. She was planning something terrible. Fear gripped my stomach.

"Len," she mustered out, hugging her baby tighter to her chest. He whimpered, and she crooned to him in a soothing way.

Ironel could no longer conceal her glee. "What's your babe's name, Len?" Leaned forward in her throne.

"Baine," Len whispered. "After his grandfather."

Ironel swiveled her wrinkly bird's head over to Lady Hopir. "And what's the name of that little bundle of joy in your manservant's arms?" She was mocking Hopir,

"Joorit," coldly but still respectfully.

"Such a pretty babe. You must just adore him."

Now she became guarded. "Yes…I do." Ironel almost cackled with glee. Then she fixed her beady little stare on me.

"Don't you think that they are very cute babies, Lady Claidissa?"

I frowned. "Yes." What was she up to?

Her face contorted in malevolent joy. "Switch them."

Hopir screeched and grabbed her baby from the servant holding him. Len just tensed up and clutched her baby tighter to her. I'd seen that look before. That was what you looked like when someone had just found the pretty thing that you craftily thieved and wants it back.

"The Law ordains it to be so," Ironel grinned in a defiant way. No one could stand up to her.

Now the furious Lady shook. "No." Under her breath.

"What was that Lady Hopir? Not trying to defy me, I should hope."

I could just sit there, aghast.

"Ironel…" She peered down her nose at me.

"Now nothing from you Claidissa. Or I shall have to revoke Library privileges, and we wouldn't want that!"

"I can't…. No. I—I won't let you do this." Hopir was now on the ground crouched over her son and sobbing. Len's shaking had intensified. I looked at them, two women so different yet the same in their fears and full of maternal love, and felt a sort of fury. A fury greater than the kind I felt when slapped by Jade Leaf, or called a slut, and even greater than when Nemian had fooled me so easily into coming to his city. I forced together all my anger at all the slop that life had thrown my way, and stood up. "This is wrong, Ironel." My arms were crossed over my chest, odd, I don't remember moving them like that. "You can't play damn games like this with people they're not—"

Now Ironel had a sort of fury, too. "Do not challenge me, Claidissa, you can not and will not win." Her voice, low, both of us seething. Hopir had quieted some, and her servants looked about warily. I felt bad for them, knowing that Hopir would probably take out most of her anger and frustration on them in the carriage during the ride back to her tower.

"I…don't fear you," I said unconvincingly.

She stood as well. "You should."

"Leave these women be, Ironel. Deal with me as you wish, but leave them BE!" That voice that was mine had growled the word, barked it, my teeth barred.

She took a step back, and seemed surprised as I was. My anger had some out in an almost violent way, and it had disturbed her, and me as well.

"You brat," she spat at my face. Didn't turn, but waved her hand at the women, _You are dismissed. _Eyes still on my face, slapped me, hard, and then stalked out of the room, calling for vodka and chocolate.

I'm in my chambers, blue and gold, sitting on the window seat writing all of this right now. It's one o'clock in the morning. And I know that I have to help the people of this city like no one ever helped me when I was a lowly maid-slave, and I have to liberate them like the people of the House took it upon themselves to liberate themselves. Ironel is furious with me, and has denied me meals, and barred the doors of this room.

I'm to start to read the Law in five days' time, but I don't think that it's going to happen anymore.

There was a knock on my door this afternoon. At the time I was sitting on a plush chair with stripes and pink tassels, reading a book that I remember nothing about. I called out cool, and sophisticate in my confinement, "You'll have to open it yourself, I can't get it from this side." Then, my stomach grumbled. Splendid.

The door creaked open. "Her Ladyship says that you can have meals now." Head down, the maid wobbled in, tray of beans on toast held before her like an offering.

"Thank you…Len?" I took the tray from her and set it on a low table.

She started to back out of the room. "Wait!" She froze, wary. "Stay. I mean, with me."

"Apologies, madam, but I have chores I must attend to."

"Oh," I felt embarrassed. "Right."

"But," she looked up, "I don't work at night. If you want company enough, I could come by this evening…."

"Yes!" I nearly shouted. "And, bring Baine." Worried it sounded too much like a command, I amended hastily, "If you want to, I mean."

"I will, Madam," Bowed out of the room

"Claidi!"

"Madam Claidi," she said, and turned to walk down the hall.

Well, it's a start.

I thought that I'd nearly go mad, waiting the three hours for afternoon to end and evening to start. I was still confined to my room, and only my slaves could go in and out, but I never really go out on when I was allowed to anyways, so that's alright. I guess.

How splendid it would be to have a friend. Well, besides you. Someone to talk to, who can talk back to help me deal with this wretched place.

Len knocked on the door about half an hour past seven. She timidly scooted inside, carrying Baine on one shoulder.

"Um, please, sit," I offered her a chair, which she tentatively inched her way into. I sat adjacent to her.

There were a few minutes where it was awkward. Conversation was stiff, and I felt guilty about pulling her away from her quarters where she probably had friends and a place to sleep.

"So, you're from the City?" A bland subject, yes, but one must start somewhere.

"No, actually," she answered softly. Baine had fallen asleep. "I am from a different city, Madame Claidi."

"Claidi, please," I begged.

She hesitated, and smiled. "Claidi." I smiled back.

"I'm not from here either," I confessed.

"I have heard about the place you are from." I never noticed it before, but she has a bit of a lilting accent, but guttural. Not at all polished like a City one, or flat and long like my House servant drawl.

"People have been talking…?"

"Oh, no. Do not worry about that, Mad—Claidi. No one says a bad thing against you." She moved Baine to her other shoulder. "I was not always a servant, though, and I went to a school. We learned about the Houses."

"I've heard that there were more than one," I said slowly, remembering Jizania mentioning them on Lion's Night.

"Yes, a few dozen, scattered about the country. They are where people of the Towers sometimes go into exile."

"Oh." I looked down, remembered my manners, and then offered her a blue and gold cake. She declined, of course.

"Do you hate it here as much as me?" I asked wryly.

"I hate it more," she said with venom, and then seemed afraid as if I might punish her for her words.

"I bet you do," I said, sorry for her. She has been dealt a lot in life as bad as mine had been, or possibly even worse.

"What about your family? I don't have one," I offered.

'I would prefer not to speak of them." I nodded

"Alright."

The rest of the night passed much like that, until I dismissed her when I noticed she was so tired, she would probably just drop dead asleep right there are my carpeted floor.

Tomorrow I must face Ironel, and whatever she's going to do to me.

Oh, Hell.

In the normal audience chamber now, not the would-be baby-swapping chamber. Ironel leers down at me, scowling.

"You are a difficult girl, Claidissa."

_And you are a crazy old bat who needs a hobby,_ I thought.

Then she grinned. "But I do like your spirit. So I won't kill you, as I had been planning to." Bigger grin. Let that last part be a joke, please.

"How kind of you," I drawled sarcastically.

Her grin turned into a smirk. "Girl, do not mess with me," her voice bordered dangerous. I backed off.

"But you will not be staying here." My stomach dropped into my feet. Please don't exile me to a house, please, please. "You are going to go live abroad for a while, in a city _away from me_." Ah. I got it. A place where I couldn't interfere with all of her infant-swapping.

"So pack your bags, dear. You're leaving tomorrow at dawn. Because I'm generous, I'll loan you some servants, a house, and a carriage to get to it in."

"But where am I going?" I asked exasperated. Everything seemed to be going so fast.

"You," she paused, "are going to the glorious city of…Peshamba."

* * *

Damn, what a cliffhanger. But I bet you loved it. 


End file.
